intimate stranger


There’s a guy sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper. Next to him was knapsack. I smiled at him and he winked at me.

“Would you care to sit here?” He asked moving the bag onto his lap. His eyes were a sparkling hazel, and they made his copper complexion glow. His red locks were carefully tucked under his cap.

“I don’t want to disturb you,” I said.

“You haven’t and you won’t. Come sit. Share my lunch.”

As I sat down, I tucked my sundress beneath me, “No I couldn’t.”

He smiled, “But you’re hungry.”

I looked at him quizzically, “But how…”

“And don’t worry about that man. He sincerely Loves you. He just needs some time to comprehend he is worthy of you.”

Stunned, I watched him reach into his bag and he pulled out a sandwich wrapped in tin foil and a small thermos, “It’s tuna fish on a Kaiser roll. I have some rippled potato chips in here as well.”

“They’re my…”

“Favorites. I know. Do you want to guess what is in the thermos, or should I tell you?”

“Is it grape juice?”

He smiled, and unwrapped the sandwich giving me half along with some chips on a napkin, “Help yourself to the grape juice. My bus is coming.”

“But what is your name?” I asked frantically seeing a bus rounding the corner.

“My friends call me, Joe. And watch the pigeons before they eat the other half of the sandwich.”

I turned around to shoo the pigeons away, but they took off in the other direction. Thank God, because I am scared of pigeons. When I turned back around, the bus was away and Joe was gone. I prayed that he knew how grateful I was to him, but I wondered how he knew all of those things about me. I went back to the bench, twisted open the thermos, but when I went to take a sip a folded index card hit me in the lip. I took it out, opened it and read:

St. Joseph is the patron saint of answered prayers

There is another thermos in the bag with your grape juice.

God says you’re welcome.


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